PIGS and Beacon: Prologues
by Shipper On Deck
Summary: A look at the Nobel siblings before they go to Beacon Academy. They are willing and able, but they have a long way to go before they can become true Hunters. Chapter 2: Innocent's Challenge. Currently in rough draft form; I will try to improve and complete it before Tuesday. Until then, please leave reviews on how I can improve it!
1. Pius' Dream

Alright, here goes my first foray into fanfiction. I hope it is pleasing to you, whoever you are, to read this OC fic.

(Usual) Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY. Not awesome enough for that.

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**ASHEN COUPLE DIES IN GRIMM-CAUSED CAR CRASH**

While driving home from an afternoon showing at the movies, a single Grimm rammed into the side of the family car of the Ashens, which carried Rey and Maria Ashen, both aged 30, along with their son Pius, age 7. The monster, now suspected to be either a Boarbatusk or a Bulwark, caused a triple-car accident and knocked over the Ashen's van before fleeing the scene. Both parents died in the fire that consumed the car, but their son survived and is recovering in Vale Central Hospital. He will be adopted by the Ashens' friends, better known as Aurum and Regina Nobel of the Aurum Dust Company.

"We're adopting him so that he can still have a family and a childhood. He can move on from this tragedy if he has both." said the Nobels.

The late Ashens worked as Dust refiners along with the Nobels in their youth before working as managers of Aurum Dust. Their bodies are to be cremated as previously arranged and their ashes scattered at a private location.

- Obituary about ten years prior, _Vale Today_.

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In the northern coast of the city of Vale, there is a private clearing at the cliffs there. A forest, green with life, separated this clearing from the busy human world on the other side, and the noise from the city's hustle-and-bustle was calmed by the breeze that seemed to be attracted to the area.

Some yards from the edge of the cliffs was a circular stone slab. It had been placed there a couple of years ago by the clearing's most frequent, "most frequent" oftentimes meaning "only," visitor, who did not want to burn the verdant grass every time he arrived. A bench made its claim to fame as the only seat in the area for several miles, standing only a few yards away from the cliff's edge, which was marked by a small fence. The fence could do little from preventing visitors from falling into the water and rocks below, but it did its job as the marker of the cliff's natural threshold.

A hum filled the air as Dust-fueled rocket fire scorched the air as its user made his way towards the clearing. He wore a complex set of machinery on his body: a pair of gauntlets that also covered his forearm, boots that went up to his knees for protection, and a chestplate that carried spools of strong metal wire on its back. All the components of this armor, collectively named Dies Irae, had glowing lines running across each piece, and the color of the glow indicated the power of the Dust expended by the machines within the armor. While he was airborne, all five parts of the armor glowed a light orange to represent the element of fire, which propelled him across the sky and towards the clearing.

The young man halted his progress once his body hovered directly over the stone slab he had arranged to be laid there. Slowing ebbing the power released by his armor, he descended from the air until his armor stopped glowing altogether, then he landed soundly on the cold rock below without a dent to either the metal or the stone. After taking a moment to absorb the scene, the visitor removed his armor. The components of Dies Irae merged and folded together until a metal suitcase manifested as the compact version of the armor.

The melancholy visitor of this clearing was Pius Ashen-Nobel, orphan of the Ashen family and the first of four adopted children of the Nobel family. He was only a few months older than seventeen years of age, a young man aspiring to become a Huntsman. He bore the same brown hair as his father, as well as most of his face, but he had his mother's ash-gray eyes, those eyes that burned their gaze into everything they looked upon, whether for analysis, affection, or annihilation. He had a light tan over his fair skin; his siblings made sure that he went outside often, as did his visits to the clearing. His form was healthy, for his siblings and his mission made sure that he exercised often.

Pius had grown into his wealth well, with little of the spoiling that could be expected from one of his upbringing. He did have a taste for the finer things in life, such as the clothes he wore, the food he ate, and the books he read, but the presence of three extroverted siblings kept Pius grounded to the world around him. He enjoyed tinkering with machines, as Dies Irae would gladly prove; he never disdained anyone of lower status than himself, for he'd always seen such notions as superficial; and he kept some love in his life that many feared had been lost in the fire that claimed his parents: the love he shared with his new parents and his siblings was a bond neither party could break.

His outfit was formal compared to the clothing most people his age would wear. If someone was watching the clearing when Pius arrived and removed Dies Irae from his body, then he or she would see the young Nobel wearing his signature glasses, with a gray waistcoat over a white long-sleeved, button-up shirt, with gray suit pants and black dress shoes to complete his outfit. The lack of a jacket and tie indicated that Pius wasn't fully comfortable with the formal ensemble he was given, but he still had style preferences that leaned towards the more formal side of clothing.

The youth sighed as he breathed the free air of the clearing before making his way towards the lonely bench that beckoned his company. The gray-eyed brunette took his seat on the left end of the the bench and placed Dies Irae on the grass. These visits to the clearing were part of his monthly routine. At the last day of each month, Pius would "visit his parents," as he told everyone who asked where he disappeared to on these days, and he would just tell the coast and the grass and clouds and the sky all about the significant and interesting things from that month. He had already been hard at work preparing his things and getting his siblings to do their own preparations, but even the stoic leader of the Nobel siblings needed time away from his family. It would be a week before the Nobels would be shipped off to Beacon Academy, and Pius wanted to take this day off from his preparations for his first year to report to his parents.

"Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad." Pius began, looking up at the pristine white clouds overhead. When he spoke in this clearing, the tone of his voice took on a feeling of relaxation, affection, and sincerity that no one outside of his family even knew could be uttered from his mouth. His curt and frank voice spoke with a tenderness and respect that no one could expect from the sarcastic and bitter mask he put on in public, as if he believed in the best for everyone.

"So I had a dream this month. Don't worry, it wasn't about the crash again." The Ashens' son then adopted an expression of curiosity and worry at this revelation.

"Though that might be why it's bothering me so much."

He closed his eyes as an imperfect memory returned a half-remembered dream, and the world around him faded away.

* * *

_ "The first thing I remember is being in the city. I'm looking down, and I can see the crash again."_

Pius stood on the roof of a building, Dies Irae glowing quietly with its default gray light. Orange and yellow danced in his eyes as he stared at the wreckage below. A flash of black had fled the scene, and once again he could not make out what it really was. He'd always hoped that maybe, deep in the dark corners of his memory that let the light of dreams shine on them, he had remembered, maybe even seen, the monster that took his parents away from him.

He watched as police and firemen arrived at the scene and began pulling a young boy out of the most damaged car. The aforementioned vehicle had fallen over on its side, and fire had begun eating at it. The child stank of smoke and smelled of blood, and a part of him had been touched by the flames. Pius couldn't take his eyes off of the boy; after all, he too was Pius Ashen. They shared the same mark from that day, marring his side and mocking his loss. It had been ten years, and yet the young man and the boy could never forget what happened that day. Why couldn't they remember what they wanted to? All that Pius could remember was the screaming, and that the cacophony came from his own throat.

"NO! NO! MOM! DAD! LET ME GO!" He closed his eyes, hoping in vain that his ears would do the same. A burst of flame gave its reply as it clawed at the sky, consuming the car and sealing the boy's fate as survivor and orphan.

_"But don't worry. That wasn't what the dream was about. Not this time."_

He opened his eyes again, and stood on white. Confused, his gray eyes searched the area. He was standing at his parents' clearing, which was covered in winter snow. The shattered moon of Remnant hung over the sky like some broken eye, vainly trying to comprehend the affairs of the mortals below as it provided a light that paled before the Sun's.

_"I'm here, and it's wintertime. But I'm not alone this time. She's here too."_

Pius saw her standing there on the slab where he would land. The snow there was melted in the center, so Pius concluded that he had come here of his own will. The question as to where the girl came from was the new source of puzzlement for the Nobel. He walked toward her, hoping to say something before she disappeared. He did not realize he was dreaming.

_"I can't remember what she looked like, or what her name was. She just...existed. It was like a blanket of snow had laid itself over my memory, erasing the details but leaving the outline intact. We were there-or here, as it were-by our own choosing, it seemed."_

She ran into the woods, away from his extended hand. Pius realized that he was still wearing Dies Irae, glowing orange with heat, but perhaps that was because it was cold that night. He was wearing his longcoat; he had removed it from Dies Irae's suitcase form when he had arrived. Like Pius, it too was gray, covering his body like sackcloth for penance and mourning.

_"I don't know why she's running. Maybe I scared her-and I know what you're thinking, Dad. "Nothing new." Haha, funny, get over that joke. M-maybe we were arguing, or she didn't think that I would discover her. But it doesn't matter. At that moment, I just knew that I had to reach her. I felt like I was going to lose something important if I didn't. Geez, I wish I could remember her. When I think of her, all I see is white and I don't know why."_

He ran after the girl, shouting after her footsteps over the snow. Maybe he was calling her name, or maybe he was saying something to her, trying to explain himself to solve an argument Pius couldn't remember. The trees were silent witnesses to the scene, watching without comment as the two mortals passed by, leaving behind footprints that would fade with the wind and the sun.

_"We're running and running until we come into another clearing in the forest. But I've checked the forest; this clearing doesn't exist in real life. And that doesn't matter, because I can see why we've stopped."_

Grimm. Those filthy monsters that stole Pius' parents, and the parents of many children like him, surrounded the pair as they stood in the center of the clearing. They were many of many kinds: Beowolves, Boarbatusks, Ursa, King Tajitus, and Deathstalkers were only a sample of the species that made their way towards the couple as more Grimm circled overhead.

_"There was nowhere to go, and I couldn't leave her behind. She and I...had some sort of bond, I guess. And I wouldn't leave her to those beasts even if we didn't have one. Never."_

The chaos and din of battle erupted as the two fought for their lives. Pius remembered releasing his blades, cutting through the Grimm's bodies like the trash they were. His claws flew out to attach themselves onto the animals and bring them closer, and then he could finish them off with his own hands. Dies Irae changed colors as its master destroyed the monsters; the sky was pierced with Pius' signals of nature's wrath.

Orange followed fire, burning an Ursa into ashes. Spikes of ice shot out of the snow into another's belly when his armor glowed blue. A young Nevermore was plucked out of the sky and thrown to the ground by a pillar of water as indigo shone. A Deathstalker's armor and flesh melted away when violet light flashed from Pius' chestplate and corrosive fluids covered the beast. A King Tajitu was cut into pieces by a blade of wind as the Nobel's armor lights matched his gray eyes. Lightning jumped its way through a dozen Beowolves and fried each one when those gauntlets shone yellow. Boarbatusks were torn to pieces when thorny vines appeared from the ground to pull them apart as green light flared into the night, mocking the trees with what they had lost. Pillars of earth threw a Kiungo, that mockery of proper primates, into the air and became spikes when it returned to the ground, as an unusual brown glow pierced through the air to match Pius' hair. A Bulwark was blinded by light as one gauntlet glowed white, before its vulnerable neck failed to keep its head on its shoulders when confronted by a metal edge. Animal instinct gave the Grimm warning when the Nobel sent them flying with punches and kicks as his armor's color matched their blood-red eyes. A mass of Grimm was forcibly conglomerated into a small singularity as gravity changed at Pius' will when he raised a vengeful hand, its glow matching the blackness of space. His silver blades flew through the air, cutting veins and amputating at will before returning to their mounts on the gauntlets, whose lights matched their color.

_"We were doing everything we could to keep them back, but there were so many. She was strong, too. I remember that she had a weapon of her, one that worked like my armor, but I don't remember how she fought or what she fought with. She was powerful and graceful at the same time, not like me. Graceful has never been my thing."_

He heard a scream. She had been disarmed by a Boarbatusk's charge, and now Beowolves were dragging her back into the woods, where its brethren awaited their meal. Every attempt at resistance was met with more beasts replacing their fallen brethren, like a black wave dragging her into the sea.

_"I forgot about the Grimm, and I just ran for her. Nothing else mattered at that moment; I needed her."_

He knocks aside an Ursa with a red right gauntlet, flips over a Boarbatusk, and shoves through another pack of Beowolves with a rocky plow raised before him. But it is not enough.

He too is screaming.

_"I'm cutting, punching, kicking, doing everything I can to get to her. But they're all getting in my way, and she's getting closer to the forest."_

Claws and fangs dent his armor and cut through clothes-blood is drawn-

_"By the time I've realized it, that we couldn't both get out of the woods alive, there's nothing I can do to make sure she's the survivor."_

He has no more Dust-nature's wrath is nothing against the sea of monsters drowning him-yet he is still fighting, reaching for her-

_"They're holding me back, dragging me into their own little horde to be eaten."_

Her shrieking is unbearable-so is his crying-

_"I can barely see her through the mass of Grimm. They're everywhere, breaking my armor, making my blades and claws useless."_

He can see it-an Ursa opening its maw to receive her-and he can smell the Beowolves' breath as they prepare to do the same for him.

_"It's horrifying, loud, and maddening, all at the same time. All the work, all the effort I've put into killing Grimm, avenging you two, protecting her, and it falls short that night."_

The Ursa's mouth begins to fall on her neck-the Beowolves' fangs are about to sink into his body, his armor useless-

_"And then-"_

Blackness. Then shapes reappeared as Pius opened his eyes and sat up on his bed.

"I wake up."

There is no snow, and the warmth of the blankets fails to comfort him. The light of the moon is dim, and the eye it makes appears to mock him for his weakness. And she is not there; as far as Pius is concerned, she never existed. But the dream stays with him; it is too real to forget. And so is she.

An hour passed in deathlike silence before he slept once more, as the fragments and shapes and colors haunted and floated in the recesses of his memory.

The heir of two families became silent once more. He sat on the bench, absentmindedly wiping tears he didn't realize were there as they slid down his face and settled on his cheeks, uncaring of their creator's distress. The wind blew over the green grass, and little waves crashed into the cliff bottom below as he tried to listen for his parents' voices.

As usual, they never come. They had left him long ago, like ashes scattered in the wind.

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Reviews are appreciated. Thank you for reading this far!


	2. Innocent's Challenge

Second chapter! Well, actually it's a rough draft of a second chapter that I'm putting up here so I can say I released the second prologue on the same day as the White Trailer. So don't read this just yet; I'll have a completed and improved version within the week!

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There is a restaurant in the commercial district of Vale City, known as the Bull Moose. It was a respectable yet informal establishment, with wood flooring and walls meant to capture some sort of rugged outdoor feel for the atmosphere. The food there was assorted into a casual menu, with a section dedicated to the things one could order at any time. The Bull Moose was reasonably popular, filled with customers on the weekends and few during the weekdays before most workdays ended. It was home to memories and incidents of many kinds; it had been around long enough to have its own ghost story related to some accidental death involving alcohol and porcupines. This was where the Nobels met with their friends on some weekends, such as this one.

They were a motley crew of five; only Yang Xiao Long had free time to hang out with the Nobels tonight and accept Pius' insistence to pay for everything. He was a good listener when she needed one, and he was always helpful when it concerned her assignments at Signal Academy, where his scores in Dustcraft and Grimm Knowledge were unparalleled. Gregory was a big, boisterous bag of fun whenever Yang needed someone to work out and spar with, and when she didn't need him, he was still a funny guy who knew his guitars. And Sarah-what a covert tease she was. Yang had often accused her of being a foxy temptress, and since the midnight-haired girl was a fox Faunus too, that statement was true in more ways than one. The blonde boxer even suspected, on some days, that one of the predatory gazes drawn towards her body came from Sarah herself.

They were a strange family, each sibling very different from the others, but they loved each other as if they shared the same blood. Yang sat with them in a round corner table of the establishment; Pius sat on her left while Sarah sat to her right. Gregory's size forced him to sit at one end as Innocent sat on the other. The five were talking regularly, in as much as they could as Gregory and Yang dominated the conversation. But the air around was interrupted when Innocent spoke up and proclaimed that he had a story to tell. It was about the events of one night during the previous week, when Innocent took up a challenge in the rundown district he called his childhood home…

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The redheaded Nobel zipped past on his board, high above the rooftops of the buildings below. His board was the most modern piece of tech he had built, with a little of his brothers' help. It was an ingenious thing that used Dust to hover off of the ground, and he had used it to go to Signal Academy without taking a boat or an airship since their third year. The board also had rocket boosters on both ends to provide a boost when he needed it, and he could make an assisted jump if he activated both at the same time. Just recently, Pius and Innocent had combined their efforts to upgrade the rockets significantly; now the board could fly through the air on its own power. Innocent had to make some extra pieces of tech to accommodate the use of the board: a device on his left arm that controlled the board's settings and informed Innocent of its condition, and shoes with electromagnets planted inside to keep Innocent on the board as well as to guide the board back to him if they were unintentionally separated. Innocent also wore a retractable mask to protect his face from the wind and debris as he sped on, though he was still free to feel the wind in his orange hair.

The former delinquent had been summoned to his old childhood area in the industrial district of Vale. It was a dirty, terrible place filled with gangs and even Grimm, but it was his home, and he couldn't ignore an urgent call from his friends. Even after he was adopted by the Nobels, Innocent still made it a point to visit the area and make sure his friends were doing alright. Apparently, one of his friends was being held hostage by a rising gang that wanted to meet with the Luteus boy.

Ever since his adoption by the Nobels, Innocent had been antagonized by the gangs in his home district for taking "the easy way out," as though a short, brutish life of crime was a more legitimate means of living than being raised in a stable household filled with people that loved him. Though he was technically very rich now, Innocent wanted very little of the lifestyle that came with the money; his only use of it was to get clothes and work on his machines. He even made his own food and cooked for the family; now that he had the chance to consistently have good, healthy food, Innocent learned the culinary arts so that he wouldn't be deprived of those wonderful tastes again. His clothes were still rather informal for someone of his supposed upbringing: an old black hoodie covered his signature orange t-shirt as sneakers covered his feet and jeans, worn at the ends where they met his shoes, did the same for his legs. But that didn't matter to his rivals and enemies back home; he would always be a "silver spoon-sucker" to them. The fact that he was speeding to his friend's aid from the sky on his hi-tech, flying board would only harden their belief, but he didn't care.

Innocent ignored the jeers thrown his way as his board shortened to the length of a normal skateboard and he mounted it on his back. His weapon, Fleshstripper, sat comfortably to its right as its master walked forward. It was a powerful weapon, a battle-axe with a round, serrated head that could spin like a chainsaw. It could transform into a powerful gun, a triple-barreled elephant that could serve two purposes: a shotgun that fired three large, incendiary slugs at once, or a comparatively short-ranged sniper rifle that revolved the barrels to fire one slug at a time. It was Innocent's personal weapon from his time at Signal, and he never went anywhere without it. He even waterproofed it so that he could bring it to the shower, because life in a bad neighborhood had taught him to keep a weapon at all times.

The thugs cleared a path for the Nobel towards their leader, whose right-hand man held Innocent's friend hostage with a gun pointed at his head. The poor hostage, Cornelius, was doing his best to ignore the gun at his face when he saw his friend.

"Hey…Innocent," he greeted. "You know you shouldn't have come here, right? It's kind of a trap up here."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Innocent replied with a grin. Then he turned his attention to the man holding his friend at gunpoint; Innocent's took on a feeling of inappropriate mischievousness towards the situation.

"So, what's all this about?" the redhead asked. "If you wanted a donation, all you had to do was ask."

"Screw you, rich boy," the thug retorted, shoving the barrel of his gun into Cornelius' cheek. "If you both wanna live, you're gonna walk forward and talk to the boss."

"And who is this big bad boss of yours? Is he tall this time?" Innocent snarked. Before anyone could speak further, a single booming voice broke through the commotion.

"So, what Roman spoke of was true! It has been a while, traitor! I never thought you would be foolish enough to come back!" The leader declared. Innocent gave one last, reassuring nod to Cornelius before moving forward. The leader of this new gang was a large man, standing even taller than Innocent's brother Gregory, who stood at a full two meters. The criminal before him seemed to be about 2.2 meters with the way he stood proudly over everyone around him. His face was covered in blond hair, which made their way down and outwards from his chin to proclaim their presence as one large beard. He was dressed in an ostentatious outfit, red pants and a red vest that showed off his bare torso, stout and strong. Gold wormed its way through both of these pieces, creating an almost royal design on his clothing. His weapon was a single massive gauntlet on his right arm, almost ridiculous in how it hung to the side.

"Who are you?" Innocent asked. At this, the leader seemed almost offended at the thought that Innocent did not know who he was.

"Hmph...do not tell me you've forgotten everyone while you were up in your ivory tower, Innocent. How could you forget the great Gilderoy?" The gang leader gestured to himself grandly, as if Innocent would understand once Gilderoy had given his name. Naturally, Innocent had been doing more important things as of late, so he didn't.

"Gilderoy?" The redheaded Nobel still couldn't place the man's face with his name. Gilderoy scowled as he realized that he was getting nowhere with the boy.

"Don't you get it already, Innocent? Kneel before your old rival!" Gilderoy stomped the ground with one massive foot before adopting a stance for intimidation.

"Old rival?" Innocent muttered to himself. Before he could go any further back into his past, Gilderoy let out a proud grunt when it seemed that Innocent had some idea of who he was.

The brawler proudly pointed at Innocent with a smug expression on his face. "The boy you fought before is no more! My gang rules and maintains order throughout this district. Here, I am GOD!" At this blasphemous boast, Innocent raised an eyebrow while the gang cheered on their boss.

"And you are a fossil, Innocent. Your influence here is nothing more than a vestige of the past. You are so small now that defeating me is nothing but a dream within a dream! And once I'm through with you, we will take this city by storm! And your little pet Sarah will be-"

Gilderoy was sent sliding several yards across the rooftop when Innocent, faster than lightning, struck him right in the face with a single, wrathful punch. No one spoke of Sarah like that to his face. NO ONE.

"You shouldn't have said that." he muttered darkly. Usually, this show of violence would be enough to shut up anyone who spoke lowly of Sarah, but Gilderoy's Aura was as dense as his skull. The upstart gangster got up and rubbed his forehead as if Innocent had only thrown a pebble at him.

"Oh, how pitiful. You have been living uphill for so long that you cannot even take an insult like a man! Well, then; take THIS! YEEARGH!" Gilderoy punched his gauntlet forward, rockets activating at the elbow to propel his body towards Innocent with the intent to run him over. But what only Cornelius seemed to know was that Innocent was very athletic underneath that orange shirt. He may not have much in the way of muscle, but he was durable, fast, and agile. And even with minds like Sarah and Pius towering over him in intellect, Innocent was still much smarter than Gilderoy would ever be.

Innocent dove forward, rolling underneath Gilderoy's gauntlet. When both of his feet landed on the ground past Gilderoy, Innocent pushed upwards and drove both feet into Gilderoy's face just as he turned his head to search for his foe. Innocent's blow was rewarded with with a comical "EYEEOOH!" of pain from Gilderoy, the first of many in their battle.

The Nobel charged forward, ready to follow up with another punch, when Gilderoy spun around to get back up. He spun around twice, striking backhanded with his gauntlet. Innocent was struck in the face the first time around, disorienting him and leaving him open for another strike. The second revolution struck his torso, sending him backwards across the rooftop. Gilderoy pressed his advantage, laughing triumphantly as he jumped upwards, flipping forward in the air before bringing his fist down to crush Innocent under his knuckles. Luckily, Innocent had regained his focus and rolled backwards to avoid the blow. Standing on one foot, the redhead replied by shoving his shoe into Gilderoy's face again; the force of the blow sent the brute backwards once more. An "EYEEOOH!" flew from the gang leader's mouth again as he rolled across the hard floor.

Up on his feet once more, Gilderoy activated his gauntlet's Dust functions and fired a large yellow ball of lightning at Innocent. He easily dodged it and charged forward once more. Ready this time, Gilderoy prepared to smash down his opponent with his fist, launching his arm forward to catch Innocent before the redhead reached him. But Innocent caught the weapon before it could strike him and launched it back up to make the criminal lose his footing. The Nobel released an uppercut that connected with Gilderoy's chin, sending him flying into the air.

Firing the jets in his elbow, Gilderoy kept himself in the air for a couple more seconds to release his barrage. The RPG-launcher mounted on his gauntlet fired three times at the orange target below, hoping to blast him off of the roof. But Innocent had been prepared for this; the first two missiles were deflected by his arms and exploded elsewhere. He caught the last missile, spinning around and letting it fly at its own launcher just as he had landed off-guard on the ground. Once more: "EYEEOOH!"

Innocent truly pressed his advantage this time around, grabbing Gilderoy's bearded face as he got up and flinging him around as if the man standing half a meter over him was nothing but a ragdoll, his righteous anger fueling his strength. He jumped into the air and slammed the brawler's face into the ground; then he dragged Gilderoy across the roof with his head in the ground before throwing him off of the roof to land on the ground four stories below. Knowing Gilderoy, Innocent figured it wouldn't kill him, but he would definitely be feeling that in the morning.

If he had realized how much stronger the gauntlet-wielder had grown since their old rivalry, Innocent might have followed him off of the building to make sure he stayed down. But he didn't, so he couldn't have expected what came next.

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If you've actually read this rough draft, please leave a review! I could use a couple more opinions on how to improve this chapter, since my only pre-reader is my brother.


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